


The Best Part of Waking Up

by catsplosion



Series: Scars and Stories [3]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Gen, Sexual Tension, Tattoos, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-02
Updated: 2014-07-02
Packaged: 2018-02-07 02:36:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1881894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catsplosion/pseuds/catsplosion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Breakfast. It's the most important meal of the day, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Part of Waking Up

Shepard almost always woke up with a ravenous hunger. She didn't know if it has something to do with her cybernetics, or if it was a side effect of being dead for two years, but she could eat these days.

Showering quickly and tying back her still-damp hair, she booked it to the mess hall.

Gardner already had bacon and eggs cooking, and when he saw her he pointed to a cup of coffee on the counter.

She took the cup and smiled. "You're a good man, Rupert."

"Hell, Commander. Just doing my job." He dished up her food and she ate in silence, forcing herself to take her time.

"Morning, Shepard."

Shepard looked up and promptly dropped her fork onto her plate with a resounding clatter.

Zaeed stood before her, hair wet, naked but for the towel wrapped around his hips.

God, those hips. You could cut yourself on his hipbones, and what a way to go.

His skin was a study in contrast; clean inked lines, rough scars. Her eyes were drawn to a thick, raised mark about three inches wide high on the left side of his ribcage. She suspected a knife wound that never received proper care, and wondered what it would feel like to trace it with her fingertips… or her tongue.

She forced her eyes back up to his face, and realized that she had been staring - and he knew it. Blushing furiously, she focused on her breakfast. When she hazarded another glance, he was leaning against the counter, chugging a cup of coffee.

He was watching her, waiting. He gave her a ghost of a smile, one brow cocked.

Green. She’d never noticed before, but his good eye was green. She returned his half-smile, then dropped her gaze again. She was peripherally aware of him rounding the table.

“That’s more like it,” he whispered as he passed behind her.

Damn you, Massani, she thought.

 

 


End file.
